


Blood Brothers

by theputterer



Series: the AU to the Nonsense AU [1]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Established Relationship, F/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-09
Updated: 2017-04-09
Packaged: 2018-10-16 20:54:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10579305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theputterer/pseuds/theputterer
Summary: After a mission on Coruscant goes wrong, Cassian and Jyn run into a ghost from Cassian's past: Cassian's Imperialist older brother, now the Senator from Fest.Set in a pre, and alternate, ROGUE ONE universe.





	

**Author's Note:**

> You do not have to read GRAY AREAS for this to make sense.

Cassian isn’t worried when Jyn misses their agreed meeting time.

He isn’t even worried when she’s five minutes late.

Ten minutes pass and he waits, leaning against the wall of the grimy alley in CoCo Town, resisting his urge to pace restlessly, because he’s less noticeable when he’s still. CoCo Town is no more dangerous to the Alliance than any other part of the Imperial City; if anything, it might actually be safer. The Alliance and the Empire seem to be perpetually locked in a struggle to take over this particular sector of the city, and more often than not, the rebels seem to be winning. None of them appear to be part of the actual Alliance, however; rather, they’re residents of a district that hates the Empire and just wants it to leave them alone.

It’s when Jyn is twenty minutes late that Cassian stops thinking of the rebels of CoCo Town, and more about Jyn.

He’s worried.

He hesitates in the alley, and considers his options. He could go back to the ship and see if Jyn misunderstood their meeting place to actually be the ship and not the alley. He could have K-2SO contact base, find out if Jyn got held up somewhere and couldn’t reach him. He could use his comlink to try to reach her directly, but she might be stuck with unpleasant and dangerous company who don’t know who she is or why she’s on Coruscant.

She could also appear any second from around the corner, grumbling about missing her stop and having to doubleback.

Cassian could almost laugh at that last scenario, for when has his luck ever been that good?

Another minute passes, and a figure appears at the mouth of the alley.

Cassian straightens and smiles, opening his mouth, ready to say _There you are, I was almost worried about you_. But he freezes, because the figure is so obviously not Jyn, but rather the contact she was set to meet, a woman taller than him, with pale blue skin and bright red hair.

She’s running towards him, a stricken look on her face.

He blinks, and remembers her name: Atheenia.

“Are you Cassian?” Atheenia asks, reaching his side. She’s barely out of breath, but he feels like he’s lost all of his.

Cassian is numb.

“Where’s Jyn?” He returns, which is just as good of a confirmation of his identity as anything.

Atheenia is already shaking her head, and Cassian’s world tilts on its axis.

“ _Kriff, no_ \--”

“I didn’t see her die,” says Atheenia, quickly. “She might not be dead, yet.”

It’s something. Cassian breathes again, but his heart seems to have stopped entirely.

“Tell me everything.”

They met in the diner, as planned. Atheenia is easy to spot, and Jyn slid into the booth, and the two greeted each other like old friends though they’re complete strangers. Atheenia slipped the drive containing the latest Imperial access codes into Jyn’s napkin, and Jyn tucked it into her jacket as smoothly as anything.

And then stormtroopers raided the diner.

It was a fluke. Complete chance. A random raid. There was no way of knowing beforehand, no way of preventing it.

Atheenia is a citizen of Coruscant, and has the scandocs to prove it. Jyn does not.

“She told me to find you here,” says Atheenia. “To tell you what happened.”

Jyn tried to fight her way out anyway. It took three stormtroopers to pin her to the floor and shove a bag over her head.

“She said you should go.”

Cassian closes his eyes, because it’s just so _Jyn_ , and because she’s right and he should leave the city and the planet and go back to the Alliance, and report Jyn as captured by the Empire, and presumably in an Imperial jail cell on Coruscant, preparing for either extradition to an Imperial prison camp or imminent execution.

Thinking of looking at General Draven and saying the words aloud, making them true, makes him want to set himself on fire.

“Do you know where they would have taken her?” Cassian asks.

Atheenia’s face twists, and she’s so clearly sorry for him, and Cassian wonders how much of his desperation must appear on his face to merit that response from a seasoned spy. “You don’t have a chance, I’m afraid.”

“Please. Tell me.”

“She’ll appear before at least two senators, so the Empire can say her case was heard,” says Atheenia. Cassian nods; he’s familiar with the sham of a fair hearing the Empire puts on before sentencing a prisoner. “I don’t know who the second one is, but I heard the squad leader tell another to take the fugitives to Andor. He’s a senator from Fest. He’s a real kriffing _monster_.”

Cassian’s world stops for the second time in as many minutes.

It’s not hope that curdles in his stomach, but dread.

The galaxy is very small.

“Zeferino Andor,” he says.

Atheenia nods, face sour. “Yeah. He’s bantha fodder. Merciless, and cruel. You know him?”

 _Zeferino sits in front of him, carefully applying a patch to his skinned knees, touching his face and pressing a kiss to his forehead, so gentle, so adoring_.

“I, uh… I’ve run into him before.”

“And lived to tell the tale?” Atheenia is clearly impressed. “There’s a first. He _always_ has the rebels he encounters executed on the spot. _Always._ ”

“I know,” says Cassian.

_“Just this once, Cassi,” says Zeferino, eyes dark. He palms the amber scarf wrapped around his shoulders, just looking at Cassian emotionlessly. “A gift from your brother. For my baby sibling. I cannot cover for you again. Goodbye, Cassi.”_

_He turns and leaves the cell, and Cassian flees through the open door, vowing to never see him again_.

“So you know,” says Atheenia, “Jyn is dead. I’m sorry.”

Cassian closes his eyes.

He pictures Zeferino, his big brother, the boy who used to comfort him when he was hurt or sad or scared, looking down his nose at Jyn, shackled but unafraid, and order her death.

He wonders if Jyn would make the connection, would ever get to hear Zeferino’s name and realize who he was.

He wonders if Jyn would bother telling Zeferino who she was to Cassian, or if she would go to her death silent, rather than betray their privacy to Cassian’s only living and most despised relative, knowing that his brother would show Cassian’s wife no mercy for their relation.

“Yes,” he agrees at last, opening his eyes and nodding at Atheenia. “I see. Thank you for telling me.”

“I’m sorry,” Atheenia says again. “Were you… Were you close?”

“Yes,” says Cassian. “I have to go now.”

He turns and walks away, moving quickly to dissuade Atheenia from following and offering more soft condolences. He supposes he should let her, to try to get himself used to it, because they’re all he’s going to hear when he gets back to base, and everyone on base is going to be so much worse, have more sympathy and pity in their eyes, because he’s a widower now--

He stops.

He thinks of his mother’s voice, for the first time in years.

He remembers his mother screaming at the Republic representative, demanding that Gabriel’s remains be sent back to Fest. He remembers her insistence, her repeated declarations that as his wife, she deserved and commanded to receive whatever was left of Gabriel. He remembers the representative balking, but eventually acquiescing to Serafima’s request, even if it was really only in an effort to get her to stop talking.

It still worked. She may have gotten Gabriel in a box, but she got him back nonetheless.

Cassian needs to see Jyn’s body.

He needs to take her home to Lah’mu, to the place she was happiest, to dig a grave with his own hands on a black sand beach there and bury her, as she asked him to, a promise she had him make to her when they married.

He is, at once, filled with a righteous rage that he could almost swear is Jyn’s spirit.

He’ll do this for her. He won’t fail her now.

He won’t leave her here alone.

He pulls his comlink from his pocket.

“Kay,” Cassian says. He waits.

K-2SO calls back a moment later. “You’re late. Are you almost here?”

“No,” says Cassian. “Listen, Kay: if I am not at the ship in three hours, then I need you to fly the ship back to base without me.”

There’s a long silence. Then--

“What’s Jyn done now?” K-2SO asks, and Cassian feels something in him break, like the snap of a rib.

“Kay, listen,” Cassian tries. He gathers himself, cobbles the words together, puts them in order, and forces them out for the first time in his life: “Jyn is dead.”

Another long silence.

“Oh,” says K-2SO, and Cassian thinks he’s never heard the droid sound so surprised before, even more surprised than he was when Cassian turned him back on after reprogramming for the first time. “I see.”

“I’m going to get her body,” says Cassian. “But I might not make it back. I’m destroying the comlink, and anything else that ties me to the Alliance. You might need to take the ship back without me. Do you understand, Kay?”

“Yes,” says K-2SO, and it’s Cassian’s turn to be surprised. K-2SO can always be counted to fight him when he changes plans so suddenly. “I am sorry for your loss, Cassian.”

“I… Thank you,” says Cassian.

“I did not always… agree with her, but she brought a certain… zeal. And we both like you, so we had an understanding.”

And Cassian almost laughs, because those are the nicest things K-2SO has ever said about or, likely, even thought about Jyn, and of course she isn’t around to hear any of it. “She liked you, Kay.”

It is easier to speak of Jyn in the past tense than he expected it to be. He can feel a coldness developing in the heart of him, a reminder of the brutality of Fest snowstorms, of who he really is.

“We understood each other,” K-2SO says. “I don’t understand why you need to go back for her body--”

 _There’s the Kay I know and love_ , Cassian thinks, almost absurdly relieved.

“--But I will follow your instructions. I will leave if you are not here in three hours.”

“Thanks, Kay,” says Cassian. And because Jyn would say it if she were in his shoes, he adds, “May the force be with you.”

“And you, too,” says K-2SO. “Goodbye, Cassian.”

Cassian realizes that K-2SO doesn’t expect to ever hear from again. His throat is tight again.

“Goodbye, Kay.”

He clicks the comlink off, and looks at it in his hand for a moment. He lets it fall to the ground, and brings his boot down on it, hard. The thing shatters into many tiny pieces, and he grinds them into the dirty gray pavement.

On the transport to the Senate District, Cassian goes through his jacket pockets. He finds a few Imperial credits, and in a hidden pocket, a handful of wupiupi credits he doesn’t remember acquiring. He finds an extra energy cell in another pocket, and a receipt for the last dinner he had with Jyn, the night before, in a tiny Alderaanian cafe in CoCo Town. They’d had fun picking the most ridiculous sounding and looking foods, taking notes and planning to offer their wholly unwanted opinions to Organa back at base.

He thinks of Jyn’s bright smile as she watched him nervously scoop up kebroot, and her loud laughter at the alarm on his face when he knocked back a shot of Ruge liqueur, and has to squeeze his eyes shut and bury his face in his hands.

Around his neck, he feels the weight of the marriage pendant containing a lock of Jyn’s hair.

He worries that he wouldn’t have taken it off and thrown it away, even if it held all the information the Empire could ever want on the Alliance. Not now.

The transport stops. Cassian allows himself one more moment to double check he isn’t carrying anything that will connect him to the Alliance before he disembarks.

The Senate District has fallen into some disrepair since the Republic was toppled, and its many skyscrapers no longer gleam in the sole Coruscanti sun’s light. Cassian barely takes in the once majestic buildings as he moves quickly through the streets, making his way to the residence of the senator from Fest.

The building is understated, and black in the daylight. Cassian knows other senators also live in the building, but doesn’t bother to read the list of names at the door. He walks into the lobby, and approaches the front security desk.

A man with artificially dyed blue skin stands behind the desk. He straightens and squares his shoulders in anticipation when he sees Cassian approaching, a move Cassian does not blame him for. He has not looked in a mirror since he heard of Jyn’s fate, but he has a good guess as to what he must appear as.

A ghost. A living fury. A madman.

A walking dead.

“Hello,” Cassian says. His voice is steady, and low. “I’m here to see Senator Andor.”

He isn’t sure if his brother is even here, but if he isn’t, then the man might know where he can find him. He thinks he has a better chance of walking out of this residence building than he does the Senate Building; this is as good a place to start as anywhere.

“Do you have an appointment?”

Cassian blinks. Perhaps Zeferino is here after all. Jyn died quickly, then. He knows this is a comfort, but he’s too desensitized and dazed to really grasp that.

He’s in shock, he knows. He’s seen it before.

“Not officially,” he tells the man. “But please, tell him it’s Cassi. He’ll know.”

He doesn’t give the man his real, full name, in case Zeferino has told Empire officials of Cassian Andor, his rebel brother. He does it as an act of self-preservation; Jyn might be dead, but he himself can still be of some use to the Alliance, should he manage to survive meeting with his senator brother for a second time. He is not convinced he will, but at least he can try. Jyn would want him to try. He wants himself to try.

“He should be expecting me anyway,” he tells the man.

If he knows who Jyn was, he should.

“Okay,” says the man, clearly suspicious. He steps away from the desk and picks up a heavy and expensive-looking comlink, much bigger and more ostentatious than the one Cassian broke on the street minutes earlier. Cassian politely looks away as the man speaks into it, instead looking around the silver-flecked lobby, at the walls covered in expensive Coruscanti art.

“The Senator will see you now.”

Cassian turns back to the man, in time to receive the visitor’s badge the man clearly expects him to take. Surprise filters into the cold in his core as he looks it over. It’s an unremarkable piece of thin metal that he’s obviously expected to pin to his jacket.

His fingers shake as he proceeds to do so.

“Thank you,” he tells the man. He walks to the elevator, which opens for him. He steps inside and turns, and the man gives him a nod. The doors close, and he feels it lift.

He knows he came here for this, to see his brother and demand Jyn’s body, but he didn’t expect to make it this far. He expected his brother to deny him, and that he’d be forced to shoot and kill his way into his private residence. He expected to be shot before he could reach the front door.

He doesn’t know what the point of this reprieve is. His brother is not forgiving anymore, and he’s already told him that he doesn’t owe him any more favors, that he’s saved his life enough times when he was a child, and let him go that one time as an adult, and he’s clearly decided that it was all more than enough. Cassian doesn’t know why Zeferino is bothering to see him, unless it’s to make sure Cassian dies this time.

Perhaps the elevator doors will open and he’ll only get a glimpse of a blaster before he’s killed.

He doesn’t get a moment to consider this scenario before the doors are opening. He isn’t greeted by a blaster, but by a woman and a man, both dressed in steely gray uniforms accented by white and black, the colors of Fest. They have blasters on belts at their hips, but neither of them move to grab them, and so Cassian doesn’t reach for his either.

The three of them stare at each other. Cassian feels underdressed.

“Come in,” says the man.

Cassian steps off the elevator. The doors close behind him, and he hears the subtle click as it moves back to the lobby.

“Senator Andor is waiting for you in the main room,” says the woman. “Would you like a refreshment?”

“No,” says Cassian, shortly. He’s already gearing himself up, gathering the tattered remnants of his fried nerves and broken heart, ready to yell and scream at Zeferino for what he’s lost at his command.

The woman nods. “This way.”

He follows the woman, whose head is wrapped in a patterned scarf lined with light brown fur, the staple accessory of any respectable Festian woman. It might stir in him feelings of homesickness and nostalgia, if this was any other woman, and any other time. As it is, he feels only burning, righteous fury.

He feels closer to his mother than he has since he was a child.

The woman pushes open tall steel-gray doors.

Cassian sees two sleek silvery sofas, a high white ceiling and pale gold chandelier, and the thick black and white patterned carpet that dominates the room all before he sees the woman wearing dark gray Festian robes, standing by the floor to ceiling windows, gazing out over the city.

She turns and looks at him.

It’s Jyn.

Cassian loses his head.

He’s across the room in seconds, and has his arms wrapped tight around Jyn in the next beat of his stuttering heart. He barely hears her speak (he thinks she says his name, but he can’t be sure), focused as he is on the shape and feel of her, of the warmth of her skin and her breath on his neck, her very alive, real breath, and he curls himself around her as closely as he can manage.

He hears a strange ripping noise, and it’s Jyn’s palms smoothing over his back that tells him the noise is coming from him.

He tries to pull himself together. Though it almost physically hurts, he takes a step back, moving his hands to her face, gripping it more tightly than he would normally, in his eagerness to determine that she’s real.

Her hands wrap around his wrists, and she looks up at him, all big green eyes, and he almost falls apart all over again.

“ _Jyn_ ,” he breathes. “Oh, kriff. I thought you were dead.”

“I thought I was too,” she says, and hearing her voice seems to jumpstart his blood. The coldness in his core that has radiated and been consuming him since speaking to Atheenia begins to creep away. Unable to stop himself, he steps forward again, pressing a kiss to her forehead, leaving his lips against her skin and burying his nose in her hair.

“Hello, Cassi.”

Instantly, he remembers where he is. Cassian straightens up, looking over Jyn’s head to see Zeferino, in flowing ash-colored robes. The scarf wrapped around his shoulders today is pitch black, with thick black beads stitched around the hem and falling over his arms, and his light brown eyes, their father’s eyes, are clear and calculating.

Cassian nods. “Zeferino.”

“I wasn’t sure you’d know to find us here,” says Zeferino, moving smoothly to one of the sofas. He sinks onto it, crossing his arms, and on the table in front of him are two glasses of red wine, both half-drunk. He raises an eyebrow at Cassian. “Please, join us.”

Jyn moves instantly, holding on to one of Cassian’s wrists to pull him to the other sofa with her. He sits, reluctantly, and straight-backed, staring his older brother down.

“Did Kali offer you wine?”

He infers he means the woman who let him into the room. “Yes. I declined. Respectfully.”

“It’s disrespectful to decline an offer of a drink,” says Zeferino. His voice is silky, that Festian accent almost bizarrely disappeared, and Cassian can find no trace of the boy he grew up with. Since running into him three years previously, he’s suspected that childhood version of Zeferino might have been a long hallucination, and this visit is offering no evidence to the contrary. “Mama taught you better than that.”

“I did not come here to drink,” says Cassian.

“Why did you come, Cassi?”

“You know why I’m here,” he says. “And don’t call me that.”

“But that’s the name you gave the doorman,” says Zeferino. “Jyn calls you Cass, do you prefer that?”

He feels Jyn twitch at his side, but he doesn’t look at her. He refuses to give Zeferino any more information than what he has already, which is certainly plenty.

Nodding towards Jyn, Zeferino says, “She looks like Mama.”

It’s such a disgusting, obvious falsehood that Cassian feels his rage return. “You know that’s not true.”

Zeferino shrugs. “Maybe. She’s certainly as pretty as.”

Cassian doesn’t disagree, but determinedly doesn’t continue the topic. He lets the silence spread like a stain, focusing only on Jyn’s nervous energy next to him, and on his brother’s eyes, as cold as the night on Fest.

“You never told me you got _married_ , Cassi,” says Zeferino.

“It was a small ceremony,” says Cassian. “Friends and family only.”

It’s a cheap shot, but not an untrue one, he thinks. Zeferino allows the jab, picking up his wine and swirling the rich red liquid around. Cassian is uncomfortably aware of how quiet the apartment is, the noise of Coruscant obscured just feet away. He thinks of their escape options, knows they’re too high to jump, considers that falling anyway might be easier to stomach than another second in Zeferino’s presence.

Still, he has a few questions before they make their exit. “How did you find out?”

“Mm, I _guessed_ ,” says Zeferino. “There aren’t many Andors out and about in the galaxy these days.”

Cassian turns to Jyn, confused.

“I… I don’t know why,” she says slowly, “But I gave your name when the troopers demanded one.” She looks so apologetic about it, for reasons Cassian cannot fathom, when calling herself Jyn Andor seems to have brought her to Zeferino’s apartment, to be beside him on this sofa, rather than bleeding out on a stone floor in an Imperial jail somewhere.

Cassian might share a name with his brother, a member of the Imperial Senate, but senators are basically powerless nowadays next to the Chancellor, and additionally, his brother is the senator from Fest, and no one involved with the Empire cares about Fest.

Jyn going by a pseudonym isn’t an uncommon move of hers; her life hinges on her ability to move through the galaxy without outing herself as Jyn Erso, the daughter of Galen, the Imperial Scientist. He thinks this is the first time she’s ever seriously taken his name as her own, and he’s suddenly so grateful for whatever compelled her to do so.

He looks at the kyber crystal that hangs around her neck, with the pendant holding a lock of his hair resting next to it, and wonders.

“The stormtrooper took care to tell me he had a Jyn Andor, in case she was a relation of mine,” says Zeferino. “I know Papa had a brother, and so I wondered if Jyn here might be a long lost cousin. Imagine my surprise when this young woman tells me that I’m her brother-in-law, that my rebellious little brother Cassian is her husband. You never seemed like the _type_ , Cassi.”

“What do you want me to say.”

Zeferino rolls his shoulders in a graceful move of a shrug. “I’m surprised, that’s all. Mama and Papa were so unhappy; I thought that might’ve ruined you.”

“They loved each other,” Cassian says sharply.

“We remember our childhoods very differently,” Zeferino returns.

“Yes, I think we do.”

Zeferino looks at him, and his face twists into a poor approximation of a smile. “You sound so angry, Cassi. I thought you’d be… happier. You thought your wife was dead.”

Cassian waits, knowing that even in all his meandering, his brother has a point he’s headed towards.

Zeferino rewards his patience. “I wonder why you’ve come here, then, since you thought your wife to be dead. What’s the point of staying in territory filled with your enemies? Your tone tells me you haven’t come to say hello to your big brother. And I don’t think you’d be stupid enough to try anyway, since the last time we spoke I told you, in no uncertain terms, that you would not make it out alive again.”

From the corner of his eye, Cassian sees Jyn turn to look at him. He’s uncomfortably aware that she’s dressed in ash gray robes that could only have come from his brother, that she’s dressed to look like someone from Fest, like someone who is here to support the Empire.

Solace comes in knowing Jyn is certainly aware of this all as well.

Zeferino asks, “So, why did you come here?”

Cassian exhales sharply, and then raises his head, looking at his brother, finally giving him all his attention. Zeferino is almost taken aback by it.

“Do you remember when Papa died, Zef?” Cassian asks, and Zeferino is definitely rattled by Cassian’s candid and casual speech.

“Of course,” says Zeferino, in a surprisingly soft voice that almost derails Cassian, but not entirely.

“Do you remember Mama calling the Republic, to get them to send Papa’s ashes back to us?” Cassian asks. “She yelled at them. She demanded it. They listened to her.”

Zeferino is quiet for a long moment, eyes unfocused, deep in thought. Cassian waits. Jyn waits.

At last, Zeferino speaks: “You risked your life for your wife’s dead body?”

“There are worse causes to die for,” says Cassian. “And I had a promise to keep. And a brother to kill.”

“Ah, revenge, of course,” says Zeferino. “That one, I understand more.”

“Of course you do,” says Cassian.

Zeferino turns to Jyn then. “Jyn--”

“Don’t speak to her,” Cassian snaps.

“We’ve spoken quite a bit already, haven’t we, Jyn?” Zeferino asks, and Jyn looks at Cassian again, eyes dark and apologetic. This day has already become one of the most surreal days of Cassian’s life, having experienced both Jyn’s death and finding out she was still alive only an hour later, but the fact that Jyn has been so quiet for so long is only adding to the surreality of it all. He has never not known her to voice her opinion with impunity, and regardless of where he stands on whatever they’re talking about.

He blinks, and realizes that Jyn’s silence might say more on what she thinks of Zeferino, and of Cassian’s complicated relationship with Zeferino, than her speaking.

He thinks it’s a gift from her.

Jyn speaks now.

“Only as much as we’ve had to,” she says. “To be polite with each other, of course.”

And stars, does Cassian love her.

“She reminds me more of Nerezza, than Mama, I think,” says Zeferino suddenly.

“You don’t get to talk about Nerezza,” says Cassian, sneering, and the white hot fury that peaks in him is all Nerezza, is all her guidance and her similar fire.

“Jyn, do you know of Nerezza?”

“I do,” says Jyn. “I know you’ve just paid me quite a compliment.”

“Nerezza died foolish, and young,” says Zeferino, ignoring Jyn’s explicit endorsement of Nerezza. “I do not think it’s something Cassian has ever fully recovered from.”

“She was my sister,” says Cassian.

“Mine, too.”

“No,” says Cassian. “I don’t think so.”

“We share the same blood, brother, as much as you do not want to admit it.”

“I am not your brother,” says Cassian.

“Oh, don’t say that now! Not when you being my brother is what saved Jyn today.”

Cassian freezes, and Jyn bites her bottom lip. He’s instantly reminded of the precarity of their situation, that they are sitting on the sofa of an Imperial senator working for a state that would be all too eager to annihilate the pair of them as quickly as possible.

They have both already cheated death once today, and Cassian knows they are most likely not lucky enough to do so twice in one day.

“What are we doing here, Zeferino?” Cassian asks.

But Zeferino turns to Jyn instead.

“I have one more question for you, Jyn. I was not aware that marriage is something… rebels participated in.”

“It seems like something we’d rebel against?” Jyn says, and even here, on the brink of certain death, she makes Cassian want to laugh.

Zeferino almost smiles, too, and it gives Cassian pause and a sense of foreboding.

“Something like that,” Zeferino says. “I was wondering, then; why did you marry my brother?”

Cassian knows what Jyn’s answer will be.

There are a few possibilities:

She’ll tell Zeferino about how Cassian was almost mortally wounded once, how she’d dragged him to a hospital on a planet she’d never been to before, how she’d tried to follow him inside but had found herself blocked because she had no tangible connection to him and the hospital had strict visitor’s policies. How she’d married Cassian so they could always stick together, especially when it would be most important, at the big apparent end.

She’ll tell Zeferino that Cassian can make medical decisions for her if she’s unable to, how she couldn’t trust anyone else to do so, how she trusts Cassian’s judgment because it is as close to her own as can be.

She’ll tell Zeferino that using Cassian’s name can be handy, and, well, actually legal and real scandocs can be a real boon, and maybe she’ll tell him that she can’t use her own real ones with her own real name at all anymore.

She’ll tell Zeferino that it just didn’t seem like too much of a hassle, that the legal and medical merits of the thing seemed worth it.

These are a few possibilities Cassian predicts.

But Jyn, she always surprises him.

She looks Zeferino straight in the eyes, her head raised high and chin forward, and says, “Because I wanted to.”

Cassian looks at her, at her sharp profile, narrowed green eyes and disorderly brown hair, and feels his chest warm.

 _Oh_.

“Do you love him?” Zeferino asks.

“Yes,” says Jyn.

Cassian knows she loves him. He knows that.

She just doesn’t tell him the actual words very often.

“What he did for you today, would you do the same?” Zeferino asks. “If he was already dead, would you go back for his body?”

And Jyn nods. “I would.”

Cassian doesn’t know what to do with her devotion. He never has. It’s cosmically perfect that she should declare herself so firmly on his team while she sits across from his brother, who has only ever betrayed Cassian, in one way or another.

It is Zeferino’s turn to surprise Cassian.

His brother nods. “I see. You can go now.”

Cassian and Jyn can only stare. Cassian feels hope building in him, hope that maybe they’ll survive this, hope that they can walk out of here.

It’s hope, but he doesn’t trust it.

“Why?” Cassian asks.

Zeferino stands, and Cassian mirrors him instinctively, Jyn quickly following his movement. He and his brother are the exact same height, but at the moment, could not possibly look more different. Zeferino is dressed in Imperial regalia, and Cassian’s clothes haven’t been washed in a week. Zeferino’s skin is clean and showered, and Cassian is covered in dust and dried sweat. Zeferino has their father’s round face, while Cassian has their mother’s cheekbones.

“I have not yet had the opportunity to save my sister-in-law’s life,” says Zeferino. “And as for you, well… I should give you a wedding present, should I not?”

Cassian stares at his brother, at his brother’s brown eyes, and, finally, sees their father.

“I do not understand you,” Cassian says.

“You never have, Cassi,” says Zeferino.

Jyn’s hand winds around Cassian’s thin wrist. “Cass.”

“You may keep the robes, dear sister,” says Zeferino to Jyn, eyeing the gray Festian robes she’s still wearing. “They suit you.”

“Thank you,” says Jyn, who looks more bewildered than actually grateful. She’s right there with Cassian in being taken by complete and utter surprise at Zeferino’s sudden generosity.

“But I will be keeping this,” Zeferino adds, and Cassian realizes he has the drive Atheenia gave to Jyn in the diner earlier. Cassian had all but forgotten about it, and so doesn’t say anything to this pronouncement from Zeferino.

Jyn seems to war with herself for a moment before nodding, recognizing the futility of her situation.

“This will be the last time we meet,” says Zeferino to Jyn. “I am glad to have learned of you. As my sister-in-law, of course. Jyn Andor.”

“‘Course, Zeferino,” Jyn says. At this time, hearing Jyn call his brother by his name, Cassian’s feet reconnect with his intellect and good judgement and begin to move him. He puts Jyn in front of himself, keeping himself between her and Zeferino, and she leads the way to the tall steel doors.

“Cassian,” Zeferino calls.

Cassian turns.

Zeferino’s expression is grave, but otherwise unknowable.

“I hope that one day, you will forgive me,” says Zeferino.

“For what?” Cassian asks, before he can stop himself.

But Zeferino only shrugs. “For all of it. Any of it.”

Cassian stares at his brother, at his brother’s eyes, and sees the boy who cared for him, at long last.

Cassian wishes he was a more forgiving being.

He does the next best thing: “Thank you, Zeferino. I will not forget this.”

“You should,” says Zeferino. And then, in Festian, he says,  “Goodbye, brother.”

“Goodbye, Zef,” says Cassian, also in Festian. Zeferino gives him one last nod, and Cassian takes in the sight, looks at this mysterious man who is also his brother, by blood if nothing else, as Zeferino turns and walks the other way across the room, disappearing through an opposite set of gray steel doors.

Jyn pushes the other doors open and they go to the elevator.

They are both silent on the way downstairs.

They don’t speak as they walk across the big, fancy lobby, and Cassian studiously avoids eye contact with the man behind the security desk, though he makes sure to drop off the visitor’s badge before the man can call after him for it. Cassian and Jyn don’t speak as they step out into the muted Coruscanti sunlight, as they walk, side by side but not touching, towards the city shuttle transport depot.

They don’t speak as they climb on in unison. They don’t speak as they sit next to each other, looking like complete strangers, with Jyn in the garb of a wealthy Festian woman, and Cassian dressed like the poor and grimy scavenger he almost really is.

Cassian is intimately familiar with how he was feeling the last time he was on this same Coruscanti transport and takes a long breath. Jyn looks at him, and he can practically hear her questions, how desperate she is to voice them, but for his sake and for their safety, she refrains.

They are well within the three hour timeline Cassian gave K-2SO, and so they go back to the port where their ship waits.

K-2SO is extremely surprised to see Cassian, much less a very alive Jyn.

“Cassian,” the droid calls, voice projecting delight. “I am so relieved to see you!”

And before Cassian can protest, K-2SO is wrapping him in his arms in a droid approximation of a hug. Cassian awkwardly pats K-2SO’s shoulder, still unsure if he is able to speak.

The droid steals his voice away again in amazement when he turns to Jyn and hugs her as well. Jyn’s eyes go almost comically wide as K-2SO lifts her clean off the ground.

“Jyn, Cassian told me you were dead,” K-2SO says. “I never thought I’d say this, but I am quite _happy_ to see you.”

“Um, yes, right,” Jyn says, at a loss for words. K-2SO sets her back down and she stares up at him, mouth opening and closing like she wants to speak but has no idea as to what to say.

“Are we ready to go, Kay?” Cassian asks, rescuing her.

“Oh, yes,” the droid says. The three of them walk into the ship.

Cassian takes his regular seat in the pilot’s chair, while K-2SO settles into the co-pilot position. Jyn slides into the seat directly behind Cassian as she always does, and Cassian finds himself frequently glancing back to make sure she’s still there, so much so that Jyn eventually puts her hand on his shoulder and squeezes, so he can feel her. If K-2SO notices, he tactfully does not comment, which makes Cassian suspect he hasn’t noticed, but it’s been the most surreal and unfathomable day of his life, so perhaps anything really is possible.

As they lift off, Cassian tries to listen as K-2SO fills him in on the messages the Alliance has sent to them, and on the small repairs he’s made to the ship while he loitered in the port waiting for Cassian and Jyn. K-2SO informs him that he hadn’t yet called the Alliance to inform them of Jyn’s supposed-dead status, as he was waiting for either Cassian to come back or to report that Cassian was also dead.

“I am glad I did not have to,” says K-2SO, and this is when Cassian reaches his breaking point.

They’ve made the jump to hyperspace, so he feels less guilty when he unceremoniously tells K-2SO to take over, grabs Jyn’s hand, and all but yanks her out of her seat and back down to the main cabin.

Jyn watches him as he paces, running his hands through his hair, looking down at the floor of the muddled gray ship, a background that Jyn all but disappears into, as she’s still in the gray robes from Zeferino.

“I don’t like those clothes,” he says, suddenly. It wasn’t what he meant to say when they got down here, but it’s the first thing he says nonetheless.

“I’ll change,” says Jyn immediately. She pulls off the thick outer robe and drops it to the floor carelessly, revealing a lighter gray jumpsuit underneath it. Cassian blinks at the sight, because it’s almost an exact copy of a similar outfit he wore as a child on Fest.

And that’s it. He’s done.

He presses his back to the wall and slides to the floor, tucking his knees against his chest and wrapping his arms around them, as Jyn pulls out her spare shirt and trousers. He can feel her eyes on him as she kicks off the knee-high black boots (thick, and perfect for walking through dense Festian snow) and unzips the gray jumpsuit, leaving the whole ensemble in a messy pile on the floor. She quickly pulls her pale green shirt over her head and yanks her brown pants over her legs but doesn’t stop to pull on her scruffy leather boots. Instead, she sinks to the floor in front of Cassian, barefoot, gripping his arms and pressing her forehead to his.

They breathe together for a moment, in sync.

“I’m so sorry, Cass,” she says.

Cassian shakes his head, unable and unwilling to meet her eyes. “For what, Jyn?”

She lifts one hand, wrapping it around the back of his head, her fingers gently scraping through his hair. “I’m sorry that you had to do all that.”

And Cassian gives a shaky laugh. “I promised I would take you back to Lah’mu, didn’t I?”

Jyn’s body is pressed against his knees, and so he feels her shrug. “It wasn’t something I was going to really hold you to.” She pauses and clarifies, “I’m sorry you thought I was dead. I’m sorry you had to see your brother like that again.”

And those are the words that break Cassian.

He begins to cry, for the second time in one day, and for the second time in one day it’s Jyn who holds him through it. She pushes his knees down and crawls into his lap, wrapping her arms tightly around his shoulders, pressing his face into her neck. Cassian clings to her shirt, fisting the fabric in his hands, and squeezes his eyes shut almost desperately, as Jyn rubs his back and hums softly to him.

She lets him cry on her, and for how long, Cassian has no idea. Definitely far too long.

He attempts to pull himself back together.

“ _Kriff_ , Jyn,” he says, but doesn’t let her go. “Oh, gods. I thought you were dead.”

“I thought I was going to die,” Jyn says, voice a whisper. “I thought I would never see you again.”

He takes a stuttering breath, makes himself pull back to lean against the wall of the ship, rumbling through space, taking them back to base. Jyn’s eyes are watery, the black paint she wears around them a little smudged. He reaches up, brushing her hair back away from her eyes, taking in that bright green color that instantly grounds him, still keeping one hand tight to her shirt.

“I wish you had not met him,” he says.

Jyn shakes her head. “Cass… He saved me. He saved us.”

Cassian closes his eyes again, but feels tears run down his face, despite his best efforts. “I don’t know why.”

“He loves you.”

“No,” Cassian says sharply, opening his eyes again.

Jyn bites her lip, and Cassian hates the look in her eyes, because he sees pity there, and Jyn is not someone who should ever pity him. “Cass, he… He didn’t have to do that. He could’ve had us killed. I… He was the first senator I saw, and he took me out of there instead of letting me go on to the next senator, where I most likely would have been shot.”

Cassian knows he needs to know all this, needs to know what exactly happened to Jyn, but still desperately wishes he could block her out, change the subject. But he’s an intelligence officer, a rebel in the Alliance, and so he pushes her on.

“Tell me what happened.”

Jyn sighs, bringing her hands from around Cassian to the front of his shirt, playing with the buttons there, so as to not look at him directly. “I saw the stormtroopers enter the diner, and I knew I didn’t have the identification I needed to get past them. I told Atheenia where to find you, and to tell you what happened. I knew you wouldn’t leave Coruscant until you knew what had happened to me, and the drive with the access codes.”

“I was a little less concerned about the drive,” says Cassian, and Jyn laughs a little.

“The stormtroopers reached us, and I tried… Well. There were a lot of them.”

“Yes,” says Cassian.

“Anyway, they got me, and then one of them asked for my name and I just… I said I was Jyn Andor.”

Cassian has to smile a little at that. “And you don’t know why?”

“No. But I was thinking about you.”

That takes the smile off of Cassian’s face, because Jyn had been convinced she was about to die, that she was never going to see him again, and she’d been thinking about him. He wraps his arms around her waist, brushes the tops of her thighs, her legs on either side of his. “Okay.”

“I had a bag over my head, and I couldn’t see anything. They put me in their transport. There were a few others there, I could hear them breathing, but we didn’t speak. I had no idea where we were going.” Jyn’s voice is still so quiet, almost haunted, and Cassian closes his eyes, unwittingly imagining it all as she relives it. “We stopped, at some point. It was all so dark. They pulled me out, and walked me for a bit. I knew I was going to see a senator, but it was happening far more quickly than I thought it would. I… I was almost glad for it. I didn’t want to have to wait long.”

“You’re too impatient,” says Cassian, which is better than acknowledging how Jyn had come so close to accepting her death that she’d wanted it to be hurried.

“Yes,” she says. “And then I was in a new room, and they shoved me into a chair, and pulled the bag off my head. And Zeferino was standing there.”

Cassian nods. “Yes. Keep going.”

“He just looked at me, for the longest time. He had two guards on either side of him, and then there were two stormtroopers behind me, so I didn’t try to attack him right away. And then I looked at him, and…”

“And?”

Jyn makes Cassian look at her. “I saw you. You’re the same height. You have the same hair, same mouth, same nose.”

“We’ve started to look more alike as we’ve gotten older,” says Cassian, quietly. “What did you do then?”

“He asked me if I knew who he was,” Jyn says. “And I didn’t think there was a point in lying anymore, so I said yes, that he was Senator Zeferino Andor, from Fest. And then he asked me if I was from Fest, and I said no. He asked me why my name was Andor. I told him it was my husband’s name. He asked me who my husband was. I told him it was you.”

“Right,” says Cassian, suddenly numb. He realizes he’s been gripping Jyn’s waist tighter than can be comfortable and forces his hands to loosen. “Then what?”

Jyn clears her throat, eyes focused on her fingers, still fiddling with the front of Cassian’s shirt. “He didn’t say anything for a minute or so. The stormtroopers got anxious, I could hear them moving behind me. And then he told them that he’d be speaking to me privately, as we were family. And you know what they’re like; they obeyed him, without question. He walked out of the room, and they marched me with them, and we got into his ship. He had the stormtroopers take the handcuffs off, and then dismissed them, but not before making sure I saw that his ship was filled with his own personal guards.

“He had me sit across from him, and we were served some kind of drink. It was… strong.”

Cassian laughs at Jyn’s none-too-pleased expression. “I imagine it was Festian liquor. Zeferino was also probably feeling very uncomfortable around you.”

“Sure,” says Jyn. “He waited for me to try it, and then he asked if I was really telling the truth, if I was married to you. And I told him I was. He told me to prove it. I didn’t really know how to, so I just started telling him facts about you, information he would already know. Your birthday, the fact you detest blue milk, that your mother’s name was Serafima, that your father died in a bombing at a protest on Carida when you were six years old. That it was he who taught you to cook. That you both had a big sister who died when you were children.”

“And he believed you,” says Cassian.

“Yes,” says Jyn. “He asked me about myself. I was becoming less certain that I was going to die, at least immediately, so I lied. I said I was born on Dantooine, that I’d been the daughter of rebels, that I’d practically grown up in the Alliance. He asked where we met. I said we’d met on base one day. He didn’t ask me where the base was.

“Before we got to his apartment, he told me to change my clothes. He said I needed to blend in, that walking into the building like… me, would look strange and suspicious. I still didn’t know what was happening, but I figured if I’d made it this far, I shouldn’t get shot in the lobby of a building filled with senators. I thought Atheenia would’ve found you by then, but you might not have gotten off the planet yet.”

Cassian exhales, shakily. “You really thought I was going to leave you?”

“You thought I was dead,” Jyn says. “I wouldn’t have blamed you for not going back for me.”

It is a statement that stings a little, that she should think he would’ve left her, but Jyn offers no apology, not even an unspoken one in her gaze as she looks directly at him. And Cassian cannot blame her for it, cannot demand explanation or apology, because he _had_ been going to leave her, until he’d heard his mother’s voice in his head, fighting for his father’s ashes.

Cassian doesn’t offer forgiveness, either, though, because it is just another thing they cannot afford.

“We went inside,” says Jyn, and Cassian is grateful she doesn’t wait for him to think of a response. “He poured wine for us. I asked what was happening, what he was waiting for.” And then Jyn looks up at Cassian, thoughtful. “He said we were waiting for you. I didn’t think you would come, but he did. And he was right. Cass, your brother… He knows you. I know you don’t want--”

“He doesn’t know me,” says Cassian, automatically.

“He knows you better than I do--”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Okay,” says Jyn, quietly, and still sounding entirely unconvinced. “Still, I… Thanks. Thanks for coming back for me. Even if I wasn’t sure you would, I… I was really glad to see you.”

Cassian laughs. “I was really glad to see you, too. Let’s never do that again.”

“Sounds good. I don’t ever want Kay-Tu to hug me again. He’s never going to let me forget it, either.”

“Probably not, no,” Cassian agrees. He leans back, pressing his head to the wall of the ship, and closes his eyes, listening to the sounds of the engine as it rumbles through space. The noise is so familiar, so comforting, as is the weight of Jyn in his arms, and he still can’t quite grasp everything that has happened today.

“Here,” Jyn says, voice soft. He blinks his eyes open again in time to see her snag a blanket from a shelf to the side. She puts it around his shoulders, and then stands, causing him to reach up and grab a handful of her shirt.

“Hey hey, where are you going?” he asks.

“Getting socks. Or my toes are going to fall off.”

“Yeah, that’s fair,” Cassian mutters. Jyn snorts, and moves away to her bag. Cassian adjusts the blanket around his shoulders, and closes his eyes again.

Jyn returns a moment later, with her own blanket, and curls up tightly to his side, worming her way under his arm until she’s half-sprawled over him.

“How’s that?” She asks, twining their fingers together.

He smiles.

“Better.”

“Better,” Jyn agrees, with a yawn. She starts to snore seconds later.

Cassian looks at her, memorizing her face, the line of her nose, the shape of her lips.

_“Thank you, Zeferino. I will not forget this.”_

_“You should. Goodbye, brother.”_

Cassian can make neither head nor tail of these last words of Zeferino’s, can’t understand his brother’s apparent desire for forgiveness, can’t begin to comprehend how Zeferino saved Jyn’s life.

He has spent years carefully burying the memory of his brother in the back of his mind, has long believed there is no other way to deal with him, with what he represents.

But there he was again, today, his _brother_ , the boy who helped raise him, back from the dead.

Saving Cassian’s life, again.

_“I hope that one day, you will forgive me.”_

Cassian looks at Jyn, listening to her soft snores, her even breathing.

He’s grateful.

Perhaps forgiveness is possible for him.

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written back in January as I was putting together GRAY AREAS (the original Cassian Andor Nonsense), and realized I was writing two stories; one, a "canon" backstory for Cassian, and the other, an alternate ROGUE ONE where everyone knew each other ahead of time. I decided to continue with the former (hence: GRAY AREAS) but never deleted this, uh, alternate outtake.
> 
> If you've read GRAY AREAS you can see how details/plot transferred over, including Zeferino (though he gets a bit of a redemption arc here, and also never became a Senator in GRAY AREAS) and Nerezza's fate, as did the names of Cassian's parents. Atheenia also makes an appearance in the other story, as does CoCo Town. Themes explored in GRAY AREAS, like forgiveness, family, and sacrifice, also make short appearances here.
> 
> It was probably good that I practiced writing K-2SO and Jyn before their introductions in GRAY AREAS.
> 
> GRAY AREAS did turn very Jyn/Cassian at the end, when I got to the ROGUE ONE chapters, but this was fun to explore an already established relationship, too.
> 
> Anyway, please drop a line if you liked this story! i am also theputterer at tumblr too.


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